


Not Quite Happiness

by graceolina37



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: F/M, M/M, lets get one thing straight: stan uris lived, takes place during ch 2, theyre at the inn, this is all angst, timeline is a little wonky but just deal with it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:08:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23202226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/graceolina37/pseuds/graceolina37
Summary: This is for you, stenbrough warriors.
Relationships: Bill Denbrough/Stanley Uris
Comments: 1
Kudos: 21





	Not Quite Happiness

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so basically I just had this idea and I had to write it out. It's not perfect, so good luck, but this was that conversation that I thought they deserved.

The cool night air that Stan felt on his hands was so that it could have only been courtesy of a crisp Maine summer. He still couldn't believe that he was back there--a place that he felt he should call home, even though it wasn't and hadn't been for over half his life. There were moments when he thought it must not be real; the terrors of his childhood and now his present felt so much like a bad dream he kept thinking it was one, and that he would wake up any moment and be in his real home. But there were little things, like the soberingly tangible Derry breeze that not even his thinkest sweater could combat. The faint but still unmistakable smell of mold in the bathroom at the inn that had also always been present in some of the older stores downtown. The way the light reflected off the green of the trees by the river. 

The signature red of Beverly's hair, Ben’s smile and the steady presence of Mike's good nature. Richie's glasses, Eddie's voice when he was working up about something, and Bill's eyes. No matter how much their leader--Stands best friend--has changed, his eyes were still the same. And even though Stan was living in his worst nightmare and he wished that all of this came out of the darkest part of his unconscious imagination, it was that fact which seemed to ground him: Bill's eyes and the feelings they started in Stan were the same, and he knew that they always would be.

Now, sitting on the back steps of the inn, willing his sweater sleeves a few more inches down his arms to shield his fingertips from the chill, he thought back to all his memories of Bills eyes: 

Being led by them, off to whatever adventure Bill was taking them on a given day. Looking into them as his hand was sliced open for the pact that had gotten him into this situation for a regrettable second time. Averting them whenever Bill said something that made him blush, and watching them close before the other boy kissed him for the first time.

He thought about the way they had widened when they saw each other for the first time after all those years, and then filled with pain when the memories came back and he realized what they had missed together while they had passed.

And when he saw them again from where he was sitting, as the body they belonged to lowered down to sit by his side, he wasn't surprised. When you look straight into something so sure--so right, and so beautiful--there's no time to be surprised or worried or distracted. You want to glance at the orbs and all that they stand for as long as you can because you never know when you'll have to stop. And plus, he had watched Bill watch him leave the bar area when he first had the idea to come outside a few minutes ago. He was really hoping the other man would follow him, and it appeared that even though so long had passed, Stan still knew how to get what he wanted when it came to Bill.

“Hey,” Bill said, in the same steady voice from their childhood, and the one he had used to comfort Stan when he first remembered. They hadn't talked about that though: Remembering. Talking about all the memories he suddenly had seemed like it was going to be a slippery slope of regret and possibly anger that he didn't think he would get through without crying. And the worst part of it all--taking with Bill, knowing everything he had had before it was taken away by circumstance--was that it felt like no time had passed between them at all.

“Hey,” Stan said back, taking a tentative step toward their imminent discussion.

“It's sort of crazy in there,” Bill said, gesturing to the door he had just come through even though Stan was watching the floor instead of him, “With all the old feelings, and maybe a little infidelity.”

“Bill...” Stan started, still wanting to prolong the tough conversation they had to have, but not wanting this to go in the direction Bill was currently taking it. 

“I mean, Richie and Eddie, huh?” Bill continued on anyway, “Who would have guessed?”

“Everyone,” Stan said back. Bill laughed, and the music of it was a relief to at least some of Stan's nerves. It was just Bill, and they were just talking. This--talking --was going to be good. Because with the other boy there it couldn't be anything less.

“I still love you,” Bill said, “even though I forgot I don't think I ever stopped.”

It was then that Stan glanced up, right back into those familiar eyes. He saw so much in them that it was overwhelming--hope and regret and even the love that Bill had just spoken of. It was almost too much.

“Bill…” this really wasn't the direction Stan thought this would go so quickly.

“Stan, you can't tell me you don't-”

“No, no, I know,” Stan said, “I love you too.”

It was true, Stan did love him. Probably more than anything, even after so long without seeing each other. He guessed it could just work that way sometimes, that you don't always forget what a certain love feels like when it's with the right person--your person.

He remembered the day they said goodbye. Right after their graduation when they went to different places to pursue different dreams with the promise to meet somewhere in the middle as soon as possible. They planned frequent phone calls, and Bill promised to write him letters. Stand didn't cry until he was in his own car driving away so Bill wouldn't have to see him. It would have made the whole thing even harder. And then, as fresh tears were sliding down Stan's face everything started to fade until there was nothing. He kept crying though, even though he didn't know why, because he was still overcome by that sense of sadness. Now Stan knew it was because there were parts of him that would never forget, even though they weren't the dominant ones.

He had gone on with his life after that, even though it felt off to do so. He went to college, earned his degree and found a wife, but something was still missing--there was something in his plan that was off. There were times, like when he was celebrating his first promotion or buying his first house, that he got a certain gut-wrenching feeling telling him that everything was wrong; that he wasn't where he was supposed to be, or with who he was meant to always be beside.

But even so, he had gone on with his life. Until now, that was, when everything seemed to stand still, or maybe even turn back.

“I'm married,” Stan said, finally. I felt good to say it, even though Bill had probably already assumed.

“Yeah, me too,” was Bill's answer, which hurt Stan more than he thought it would.

“Are you happy?” Bill asked after a moment. And Stan didn't really have to think about it. He was. Despite everything, he was happy. But happiness didn't mean he had everything he needed to be fulfilled.

“Yes. I'm happy,” Stan answered, “Are you?”

“Yeah. I think so,” Bill said, “Something was always missing though.”

“I know what you mean,” Stan said back. He knew all too well.

“I still can't believe we ended up like this,” Bill spoke up after a moment.

“Not together?” Stan clarified.

“Yeah. I grew up thinking that we were going to be together forever,” Bill said, and then seemed to struggle for his next words “And we weren't. Were not-”

“Me too,” Stan answered for him.

“Do you love your..?” Stan started to ask.

“Audra. My wife. Yeah, I do,” Bill said gently like he was trying to break bad news in the best way possible, “And you?”

“I love Patty. We're happy together like I said.”

What Stan said was true; he did, they were. But just because he loved his wife didn't mean he loved Bill any less, even now. They were different kinds of love. Happy-love and, well, love-love.

“I wish I hadn't gotten married,” Bill said, a vision coming fourth in his voice, “that we came back here and we were both single and ready to find each other again and live happily ever after.”

“I wish I would have never let you go in the first place,” Stan said.

“We couldn't help it,” Bill tried to reason.

“Who knows,” Stan said regretfully, “Maybe we could have.”

“I'm pretty sure you're my soulmate,” Bill said after a pause. Once again Stan wasn't surprised by his choice of words. It's what comes from knowing a person better than anything else.

“I'm pretty sure you're just being cheesy,” Stan said back just to lighten everything up a bit. If he said what he was really thinking, that he _knew _Bill was his soulmate, he would spiral into his grief until he fell apart, and he didn't want to do that right now. Besides, he knew that Bill could tell what he was thinking, even if he didn't say it out loud.__

____

____

“I’m serious,” Bill said back.

“But there's no way-- we can't be together,” Stan said, because even though it hurt, it was true. They couldn't just uproot their lives because they were both happy in them, even though they weren't complete.

“Yeah. You're right,” Bill said in a voice that was unmistakable pained, “I wish-”

“I know,” Stan said.

At that moment Stan had a feeling of perfect melancholy. Even with a deep sadness weighing down on him, there was something that wasn't quite happiness intruding on all his other emotions.

Even though they couldn't be together--they couldn't start over like Richie and Eddie, or just plain start like Ben and Bev. Even though they had both suffered a great loss when their hearts had first been separated, in a way it was like Stan was getting the muddled piece of himself he had lost returned to him.

A part of him would always belong to Bill. But just knowing that that piece of him was out there, with a person he would always consider to be his as well, made him feel better. Because there was at least something to explain the emptiness, and maybe even fill it.

He had his soulmate back again--his better half. And even though they lived separate lives with different people and Stan knew that they could never be together like they once were--the way he always hoped they would be forever--Bill was still his person, and nothing was going to change that.

At this point, where they were sat next to each other outside, their eyes had been locked together for so long that it was inevitable one of them was going to lean in and do the same with their lips.

With the first press of their mouths together, it felt comfortable and just right. Like coming back to the only part of Derry that had ever felt like home. And as they kissed, Stan thought about how it was the first time they had been this close in almost three decades. He tried not to think about how it was also going to be the last one he ever got. Instead, he focused on making up for all the lost time in this one moment that he had, trying to make it last before it was over forever.

But even when it did end; when they went back inside and refocused their energies on fighting a monster and saving themselves in the process, it was okay. Because even though they were finished almost as soon as they had gotten each other back; even if no one else knew what they were to each other and even if after all of this was over they forgot everything again, they would know.

It was the two of them again, together because they would always be together, even if distance separated them. And just knowing that was enough.


End file.
